Two Brothers

Two brothers stood, before their father one day.
“Give me my share.” The younger one said.
“I”m going away,and I wish you were dead.”
The older one frowned, but the father complied.
Shaking his head, the older left with a sigh.

Then off went the younger, full of life and plans.
Sure that the world would bend to his demands.
Prodigal is the word often used,
To describe his life, filled with women and booze.
The older son stayed by his father’s side.
Daily he prayed, and was filled with pride.
For he had chosen the narrow way.
He was following the rules of play.
Dependable and honest, hardworking too,
The older one did all he was expected to do.
He felt good to have earned, his father’s pleasure,
And gratified to give back, in regular measure.

The father of both, felt a longing within,
To redeem his children, from their paths of sin.
He waited with patience,day after day,
Hoping they each would repent of their ways.
And then it happened, in a moment, a flash,
The young son returned, having spent all his cash.
He was lonely and broken, filled with loss and shame.
But bowing in submission, to the father he came.
With great warmth and love, the father ran to his side.
Fell on his neck, and with grateful heart cried.
A celebration ensued, the fatted lamb was slain,
For the younger son, had come home again.

But oh the outrage, of the older boy,
At his brother’s return, and his father’s deep joy.
His anger burned deep! His brother had no place.
For he was the one, who’d stayed to earn grace!
Honor and gratitude, these were his due.
A celebration with friends, and accolades too.
How could his brother, this lowly thief,
Come creeping back after causing such grief

!
How could he think, he would be welcome again?
How could he hope his ways to mend?
The father’s sorrow, ran as deep as before.
How could he manage, both sons to restore?
“Oh, my son,” he begged, his heart full of love.
Grace can’t be earned, it’s a gift from above.
Your faithfulness I see. Your hard work too.
But please listen to me, All I want is YOU.

Often we chastise, the prodigal child.
For leaving his home, and becoming so wild.
For indeed his sins, are an open book.
And all can stop, and critically look.
He is to blame, he deserves to pay.
He deserves to suffer, for living that way!
But deep in our hearts, we are prodigal too,
Wasting God’s love, and spurning what’s true.
We wander from Him, Who longs to embrace,
We fill up on ourselves, expecting His grace.

But once it’s deserved, it’s not longer free.
Grace can’t be earned; it was bought on a tree.
Costly to the utmost, a Savior’s blood shed.
The true older brother, who rose from the dead.
Offers redemption, hands open wide,
Pleading with us, to let go of our pride.
For only in humility, can we come to the place,
Where with grateful hearts, we receive His grace.
Prodigal now, in our love for him,
We are made new, by his Spirit within.

 


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